A Rose From Yesterday
by Jp39
Summary: Just a short (by my standards) fic that I wrote up about Jessie and how she might see herself. (PG-13 for angstiness and thoughts of violence.)


Finally I upload another fanfic. Sorry, I just have chronic lack-of-time syndrome. -_- This is a bit confusing, and I'm the first to admit it. (I wasn't exactly sure where I was going with this when I first started writing, so it wanders around a bit.) Hope you enjoy. ^_^ 

**_A Rose from Yesterday_**

Yeah, you know me. Jessie, that stupid brat that's always screaming at everyone. The one everybody hates. Who doesn't care about anything but her looks. 

Hah. If only you knew. 

You see, I'm not really that bad. At least, I don't think I am. Sometimes I wonder how I can think I'm not bad, but I still do such awful things. I guess you probably think the same thing - that I'm a total hypocrite. 

Maybe I'm not. Maybe you'd do the same thing if you were in my situation. If you'd been raised the way I was. Maybe anyone would. Maybe there aren't good people and bad people - just good circumstances and bad circumstances. 

And it's not like I WANT to be so mean and nasty. Just… sometimes it's like an entire other person takes over, and I can't control what I do or say. My own personal demon. Or maybe it's the other me, the one my father created in me. 

Or maybe I'm just crazy. 

I've thought about that before. Maybe I *am* one of those mental cases that you read about in books, but never think you'd actually meet. Usually they blame the "terrible things" they went through in the past. Well, if that's true, I've got more than enough reasons to be a total looney. 

You see, when I was really little, my mom died. I can't remember her too well, but the one thing I CAN remember is her telling me to never, ever let your feelings show. That's what made you the best - unshakeable, unflappable. That's how she got to be a top agent in Team Rocket. But no matter how hard I try, I can never seem to follow in her footsteps. I am, and will always be, a failure. 

Then, after Mom died, I was left alone with my father. I hate him. I know it sounds awful that I hate my own father, but I do. I hate him for all he put me through as a kid. I hate him for what he did to me. He turned me into a… a monster, with a scared little girl, the REAL me, living somewhere inside. 

He was awful. He beat me - badly. For anything. If he'd had a bad day, and I said the wrong thing. If I talked at all. Around the time I was eight, I stopped talking altogether. For almost a year, I lived in silent torment. To this day, I don't know if it was a concious decision, or if I really COULDN'T talk. Eventually, I did start talking again. But I was different. I was sounding more and more like my father - mean, nasty, and tempermental. I resorted to violence as an outlet for the temper I had suddenly developed. 

Let me tell you, it killed me - it KILLED me - to see myself acting like HIM. But I couldn't stop. It was like I lost control of my body and my mind, and I could just sit back and watch while the other me wreaked havoc on everyone around me. Maybe I'm one of those multiple personality people. Like that girl in the movie… what was it again? Oh, yes - Sybil. James rented it one boring Saturday night about a year ago. Maybe I'm like her - trapped inside my own mind, and the different personalities it has created. 

Or maybe I just think too much. 

Yes, I know you're probably surprised. You probably think I'm just some kind of dolt who's not good at anything. I'm not stupid, I know that much. When I enrolled in Pokémon Tech, they gave me a standard IQ test, and the results were good. Really good. They told me that I could be anything I wanted to be… except for the fact that my attitude made it almost impossible for me to succeed at anything. 

That's me. Jessica Dobsin. Chronic failure. 

It's not like I didn't try. I studied hard for that final test, I really did. I thought it would be easy. I studied so hard. I was sure that I knew everything. I *did* know everything. But the moment I saw that test paper, I panicked. Everything that I had memorized totally left my head. It's not just that nervousness that everyone gets before a big test. I seriously could not remember any of the things I'd so carefully studied. 

It was almost like my brain was sabotaging my success. 

I answered three questions on that test. Three. Out of one hundred and twenty-five. Needless to say, it was a miserable failure. I remember being more humiliated by the fact that it looked like I hadn't even tried. I think I would have dealt with it better if I'd answered all the questions wrong. Instead, I just gave up. 

So after that, James and I ran away and joined a biker gang. I didn't want to, but we needed to eat, and the kids were really nice and looked after us, kinda like a little brother and sister. For once in my life, I almost felt like I belonged. 

But after that, James and I joined Team Rocket. I don't think I would have gotten on the team if it hadn't been for my mother. I was sixteen and basically unskilled, with no visible talents. The only school record that I had was one of miserable failure, I had never held down a job, and I was so scared at the interview that I just clammed up and let James do all the talking. A disgustingly bad mistake. 

And that's kind of how I got to where I am now. I always tell James and Meowth that someday we'll capture that Pikachu. Someday we'll be winners. Someday people will look up to us. But that's just for them. I never really believed any of it. I pretend to, for their sakes, but I know deep down that I'm just a failure. I'll never be any good at anything. 

Sometimes I just want to end it all, you know? In fact, a couple times I came really close to just giving up and finding in death the comfort I could never find in life. But something always stopped me. I think it was James and Meowth. I know if I were to do something like that... well, they'd never get over it. And I care about them both too much to do that to them. 

There was one time that I almost DID go through with it. It was after a particularly bad defeat by that twerp. I'd gotten into a nasty fight with James soon afterwards, and he wasn't speaking to me. Meowth wasn't speaking to either of us, since he didn't want to get involved. That night I had nightmares about my father. Not that it's anything new. Just that I couldn't deal with it then. So I got up, and I ran to the edge of a cliff nearby. I couldn't see too far down. All I could see was velvety blackness. Nothing. That's all I want. A void. No feelings. No hurt. I almost jumped in. I probably would have. 

But then James came up to me. He apologized for what had happened before. He said he hadn't been able to sleep all night because of our argument. 

Then he gave me a rose. A single red rose. As he gave it to me, he leaned over, close to my ear, and whispered, "You're the most important person in the world to me, Jess. I don't know what I'd do without you." Then he kissed me on the cheek and walked away. I don't think he ever guessed why I was out on that cliff. 

But suddenly, after that, life seemed worth living again. I had a purpose. Someone needed me. Someone cared for me. Cared for me deeply. The way no one had cared for me in my life. 

I kept the rose he gave me. I pressed it in a book, so I'd always have it. Now, whenever I feel down-and-out, like the world's closing in on me, I just look at the rose, and remind myself that there's still hope. That someone needs me. 

A week ago, I got word that my father had died. A heart attack or something like that. I know it sounds awful, but my first emotion was not sadness, but rather relief. He was gone. He no longer had any power over me. He was gone. I was free! 

I never felt any sadness over his death. It may be horrible, but it's the truth. When James heard that my father had died, he told me he was sorry. And I asked him why. 

I quit Team Rocket yesterday. James quit with me, of course. I'm going to start a new life now. Sure, the scars will always be with me. But my father's death somehow liberated me. 

I don't know why I wrote all this. It's just my way of freeing myself from the past, I guess. 

So, Daddy, goodbye. 

_Jessica Dobsin_

*********************** 

The redheaded girl dropped the bulging envelope into the coffin as the other mourners filed past. She couldn't help noticing that no one seemed particularly sad. 

A woman noticed her, and reached out to embrace her. 

"I'm so sorry about your father, Jessica." The woman said. 

The girl just gave her a small smile, squeezed her hand, and walked out. A young man about her age and a cat Pokémon joined her as she walked out of the funeral house... and into a new life. 

*********************** 

Okay, that was a little weird. I kinda wandered around a bit on that, I'll admit. But I hope you enjoyed it. ^_^ I also hope that I got you to see Jessie in a new light. Probably not, but hey, I can dream. ^_^ Now, if you'd be so kind, drop me a review. Or a flame. Whatever. Just try and at least give me some constructive criticism instead of just saying that my story stunk. (I already know *that*. ^_^) 


End file.
